Cry Me a River
by Torashii
Summary: One day, Sawada Tsunayoshi woke up in a coffin, and his life changed.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I know I really have no right to start another story •~• but like my laptop charger is banjaxed so I can't update the other ones anyway so /shrug

And an oyster card is a bus and train pass exclusive to greater London. This all will totally make more sense later on

* * *

One day, a brunet woke up in a coffin.

The heady scent of crushed flowers surrounded one Sawada Tsunayoshi. Their broken stems poked his sides, and their soft petals caressed his skin, and all the while their smell invaded his nose, overran his senses in the small, near pitch black space. In the time in which Tsunayoshi slowly came to his senses - reality slowly invading the the fog of sleep - he spent more than a few minutes in uncomprehending silence. Was it possible he was still asleep? But no, dreams were never so detailed, so _real,_ not even those rare few lucid ones which he always looked forwards to.

No. The stalks digging into his sides were real, painfully so. After a few moments of sliding around of the silky material he lay rest upon in attempts to dislodge the stalks, a daunting thought finally entered Tsunayoshi's head.

Now obviously the young brunet had been contemplating the situation. After realising he wasn't in fact dreaming, the idea of being pranked immediately came into his mind, before he reluctantly dismissed it. There was nobody he knew of who would prank him in such a manner. It would be especially distasteful after the recent mess he'd been through, and even the few people he knew who might have done such a thing he knew would not pull it off so soon. They'd have waited, at least until things had settled down and Tsunayoshi wasn't quite drowning in his grief.

Yet with that option out, more fanciful ideas ran through the brunet's head. Maybe he'd been kidnapped. Maybe he'd been kidnapped by a mass murderer with a penchant for young mixed race kids and locking people up in small, dark places. Maybe he was in a secret government facility.

But Tsunayoshi couldn't ignore the signs - flowers, a dark space, silk lining...

Bile rose to the back of Tsunayoshi's throat and a sick feeling invaded his gut as the idea cemented in his head. They didn't, they _wouldn't._

Oh but they did.

Now a desperate need to leave rose up within the boy, and an intense form of claustrophobia, and the need to get away, get away from the smooth silk lining that was _mocking his so with its softness and-_

Tsunayoshi pushed, desperate and frantic in his attempts to get the heavy lid off the box he lay within. It shifted a little, solid wood adding to the weight of the six food lid. Keeping his arms upon the lid above him, the brunet bent his knees and brought up his legs, trying to gain them some footing so they could push too. He grunted with the effort, putting his entire back and leg power into it, his legs pushing through once he realised that the obstacle was gone and clean, fresh air entered his lungs.

The teen sat up, slightly disorientated by the great change in scenery, but immensely relieved to be free of his previous confines. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Tsunayoshi took in his surroundings, the unfamiliar smell within the air, the bright rays of the sun peeking from between the various trees surrounding him - and the sleek, black coffin in which he sat. Gingerly, the brunet got onto wobbly legs and slowly stepped out of the coffin, carefully avoiding the discarded coffin lid that lay to his side. He wanted really to put it back on, but it had been heavy enough to move the first time around, and Tsunayoshi really didn't have the heart to try again.

In some form of morbid curiosity, the brunet studied the coffin he rest within not only a moment before, in great detail. The casket itself was wooden as was traditional - most likely so it could rot through in the ground and let the Earth, maggots and worms reclaim the body - but it was entirely black. Not that Tsunayoshi had never seen a black coffin before - they weren't quite that uncommon - but through his expert opinion and experience in coffin shopping, he knew that they were generally more expensive. Furthermore, it didn't even look varnished or dyed, the wood was genuinely black. The only black wood the brunet really knew of was ebony, and apparently prices for it were extortionate, so the notion that this had been set up by anyone he knew was immediately crushed. There was no way they had the money to spare - and even if they did, why waste it on something so distasteful?

That wasn't to say the entire coffin was black, no. It was adorned with simple gold additions, making it too classy to be plain, but too simple to be gaudy. Fancy golden handles lay in measured distances around the sides of the actual casket, their placement outlined via simple gold outlines of rectangles with inverted corners. At the bottom of the coffin another gold adornment lay, a beautiful addition to the entire casket. With a grunt, Tsunayoshi flipped over the lid to see that it too had a simple stripe of gold outlining its shape, but little else. What was he hoping for? Some sort of sign, or, god forbid, a name? Tsunayoshi was completely out of his depth, and really the only thing he'd managed to do was admire the high class coffin he'd woken up within.

A tiny part of the brunet was resentful someone would leave a coffin such as that one simply lying around. He wished he could have afforded something so nice. The rest of him however, was in a state of panic.

Wherever he was didn't feel like England. The sun was too bright and warm, and there was a distinct lack of the soggy wetness that permeated all parts of the British Isles. No, the sky was a clear, bright blue - lighter than he remembered from the rare few cloud-free days he'd experienced - and the air was dry, cut through only by the light chattering of cicadas. Tsunayoshi wondered if he was in Europe anymore. Maybe Greece or Italy had the noisy bug - Spain and Portugal too, but none of the countries he was intimately familiar with had the same atmosphere as his immediate surroundings.

He had to focus, to calm and gather his wits. The beating of his heart wasn't slowing down, but Tsunayoshi swallowed against the dry lump in his throat and forcefully pushed aside his panic.

First things first, he patted himself down, mildly surprised to find himself in the exact same clothes he'd collapsed on his sofa in - too tired to change and knowing that he'd have to get up again soon regardless. Whoever had kidnapped him hadn't done a very good job. His mobile was still in the left pocket of his trousers, and another couple of pats revealed his small wallet in his other pocket. Tsunayoshi idly rifled through it, pleased to find none of his money missing - though depending on where he was, it might be useless anyway - and his various cards in place. With a small hysterical giggle, the brunet realised he still had his oyster card. That would surely be useful to get home. Again, Tsunayoshi wondered about his hypothetical kidnappers. It seemed as if he had simply been taken exactly as he was.

Firmly clamping down on his hysteria, the brunet checked his phone right afterwards - pleased to see that it turned on and unlocked properly. The digital clock showed that barely an hour had passed since he went home - which couldn't be right because there was nowhere like the woods he was currently in anywhere within an hours drive from his house. Yet somehow the date was exactly the same as before he fell asleep. But it wasn't possible for him to have been kidnapped, transported to another country and placed in a coffin in under an hour. Was it?

No, it wasn't. There was absolutely no way he was still in England - heck if the time was right it would have been dark at the moment - there was somebody messing with him. Or maybe it was his phone. With a sigh of relief, Tsunayoshi noticed the complete lack of signal. Of course - his signal had been blocked, and his date and time was running on the network standard. It simply hadn't updated yet. Once he got some signal, he could call the police, get picked up and forget the entire ordeal. Tsunayoshi berated himself for not noticing earlier. He had almost believed in whatever trick was being played upon him for a moment.

Stepping away from the coffin, Tsunayoshi held his phone high in the air, squinting against the sunlight while he tried to see which way he could find some signal. After a few moments of walking around, a series of beeps announced his success. He had a message! Maybe it was from someone who'd found out he was missing. Then all he had to do was contact them, let them get help and he'd be home free.

In his excitement, Tsunayoshi completely ignored the updated time and date, hurriedly opening his message box and the unread message to see who had contacted him.

The brunet froze, reading the message in some sort of abject horror.

 _Welcome to O2 JAPAN. Roaming charges apply. Calls to the UK are..._

Tsunayoshi blinked. _What?_

More slowly now that he was overcome with a terrible need to prove the message false, the brunet closed his messages, going to the large calendar app on his home page. His breath caught in his throat, and with shaky hands, Tsunayoshi ran a finger across the screen, as if he could change the words on it

 _13:21 12th June 2014_

 _Namimori, Japan_

One day, a brunet woke up in a coffin.

And his life changed.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: aha, I might have accidentally been too obscure there. this is an AU Tsuna who's had no mafia contact ever. I was hung up on the idea of some random, normal Tsuna being forced to fill the shoes of older mafia one and how that would go down

 **An** \- idk if that's a typo or smth, but idk?

ty for the reviews o/

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Japan, Tsunayoshi concluded, was fucking _hot._ Sure, he heard about his mother's birthplace before - she'd speak of it with a fond sadness he learnt to classify as nostalgia - but they never actually visited. She had fled the country just before he was born, and never had the chance really to go back. Tsunayoshi wondered if she had been planning to, at some point, visit the country with him; heritage had been important to her and she diligently taught it to him as he grew up despite them being so physically removed from it. It's most likely she had, that is, if she hadn't fallen ill.

Tsunayoshi shook his head, as if to erase the negative thoughts from it. He felt a bead of sweat run down his forehead, and he cursed. Heritage or not, Japan was still too fucking hot.

"Jesus christ."

Tsunayoshi didn't often swear, but being lost in a country on the other side of the world, apparently _two years_ in the past seemed to call for it. Tsunayoshi still wondered how far his phone had to glitch to make it appear like it was still 2014. Like, there was no way that could seriously happen, _right?_

 _'Just like there's no way for you to randomly wake up in Japan.'_ His mind supplied. Tsunayoshi told it to shut up.

His mind decidedly refused, and continued to speculate over the chances of him having travelled through space and time - quite literally.

Pushing through some more shrubbery, Tsunayoshi finally decided that it was the least of his worries. Besides being hopelessly lost, he also had no money or means to contact home. Well, at most he had a couple of pounds, but they were as good as nothing in Japan. Plus his phone lost signal ages ago, and Tsunayoshi had given up trying to get it back. The brunet idly wished he'd woken up somewhere more convenient, like, America for example. Wasn't the 2014 exchange rate pretty good? Or maybe that was the 2012 one? Tsunayoshi couldn't quite remember, and while thinking up useless information helped stop him from panicking too much, it didn't get him out of the forest he was in.

The brunet decidedly announced to himself that he was not lost.

' _Bullshit.'_ His mind spoke up with another unnecessary answer, and he told it to shut up again.

Besides, you can't really be lost if you had no idea where you were in the first place, right?

Tsunayoshi grumbled to himself while pushing past more foliage. He shoved himself through a particularly annoying cluster of trees before the forest finally gave way. Civilisation. At bloody last.

The slightly run-down children's park couldn't really be classed as the pinnacle of civilisation, but to Tsunayoshi's deprived eyes, it was a haven. A haven that had a _fountain_.

Stumbling out of the forest, Tsunayoshi hurried over to the fountain to take a well deserved drink. Usually he'd never go for anything so public and potentially unhygienic, but weird fountain water germs or not, the brunet was far too thirsty to actually care.

' _Come at me, germs. Do your worst._ '

Maybe he was more dehydrated than he thought.

Having finally drunk his fill, the brunet wiped his mouth and checked his phone again for signal. Tsunayoshi thanked various lords that it did indeed have signal, and that it hadn't ran out of battery quite yet. He went to his contact list, and almost clicked 'mum' before he realised what he was doing and quickly scrolled past. Picking another name at random, Tsunayoshi held his breath and pressed dial.

Before he even got to the first ring, an automated voice message played into his ear.

 _The number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number, and try again._

Shakiky, Tsunayoshi hung up and tried again. He didn't bother listening to the entire message when it played once more, immediately hanging up and trying a different contact.

 _The number you have dialed is not in service._

Gripping his phone tightly, the brunet pressed end call and tried again, his breath hitching when the same message played into his ear.

 _The number you have dialed..._

Shaking his head vigorously, Tsunayoshi closed his contacts and put his phone back in his pocket. It was simply a coincidence, that was all. Just because he woke up in another country, didn't mean that he was two years in the past and unable to contact anyone he knew, let alone get home.

He heaved a sigh, and forced himself to relax. Maybe it was simply all a prank, and his phone had been tampered with. Japan? Did he seriously think he'd woken up on the other side of the world? Obviously he was being messed with. There was no way this was happening. He was probably getting punk'd or something like that.

The excited chattering of passing children met his ears, and the brunet's hopes sank and the obvious use of the Japanese language.

Taking a deep breath, Tsunayoshi decided the best thing he could do was determine his next set of actions. Obviously, there was something going on here that he couldn't explain. Maybe if he actually had been two years younger, he'd have broken down in panic, but he had matured since then. His mother's death had practically forced him to grow up.

The best course of action would really be finding a police station. Not for the first time did Tsunayoshi thank his mother for raising him bilingual, so at least he could explain his situation properly when he found one.

The brunet firmly denied entertaining the various thoughts and explanations for his situation. Agnosticism gave him the right open mindset for these things, but he honestly didn't want to comprehend the full impacts of travelling through time - or, god help him, anything worse.

Huffing a breath, the brunet went on his way, picking a random direction in which to walk towards and hoping that he'd run into the police station - or someone who could take him there, at the very least.

Somehow, the heat became even _worse._

Tsunayoshi staggered through the streets, cursing whatever gods were out there for making him appear in Japan in during the peak of summer. He must have appeared particularly dead to the world, for he hadn't gone far before being approached by a nice old lady.

"Oh dear, are you okay, young man?" She asked sweetly, or at least, he thought that's what he said.

Tsunayoshi blinked, wiring his brain to Japanese. It had been a while since he really spoke it with anyone else.

"Ah, yes, I'm fine." The brunet rubbed his hair sheepishly, before remembering to add, "thank you."

The woman seemed surprised, and Tsunayoshi had to wonder just how odd he sounded. It can't have been that bad, right? His mother had been a native speaker, and she didn't really have fault with how he spoke.

"Ara, are you not from around here?" The lady asked, and upon seeing the brunet's surprised expression, laughed. "It's a small town," she explained. "And you seemed lost."

Thank the heavens for old ladies. Tsunayoshi nodded, relieved. "I am. Would you mind telling me where the police station is?"

"Oh, of course dear." She rummaged through her bag. "Here, let me write them down for you."

Tsunayoshi smiled and thanked her. After having received the directions, the brunet waved goodbye, before checking the paper to see where he had to go. He almost face faulted, when he saw the mess of kanji he didn't understand.

— X —

Huffing, Tsunayoshi looked upon the unassuming beige building, and let out a sigh of relief. It may have taken him an hour, and asking another person, but finally, he had made it. The police station. _Finally_.

The brunet wasn't quite sure how protocol went in Japan. Was he allowed to simply walk in, and say that he was lost? But then, he couldn't really give them an address to direct him back to - he was sure if he said he lived in England, then they wouldn't take his seriously. Then again, he was a minor, at least, he was fairly sure that he was. Japan had an age of the majority of twenty, didn't they?

Tsunayoshi didn't quite know if he would hate being put into a home more than being rejected. The brunet absolutely detested having to rely upon people - he was prickly enough with people he knew, nevermind having to rely upon strangers. Sadly he had to do _something_. There was not a chance he'd survive on the streets in a country he wasn't familiar with, in a small town no less. Japan had a fairly low crime rate, but again, he didn't know the country well so he couldn't be sure. Maybe if he was in Tokyo, he might have given it a try, but he wasn't, and Tsunayoshi was fairly sure he'd be quickly caught here if he tried the usual tricks homeless kids pulled. All it all, it wouldn't go down well, and he'd rather turn himself in before he was dragged in by the scruff of his neck, to face some sort of consequence he would have almost certainly been unaware of.

Taking a deep breath, and fixing himself up a little - sure he wanted to look lost, but not like a bum off the street - Tsunayoshi pushed through the dainty little doors that led to the inside of the office. Almost immediately, he sighed with relief at the air conditioning. Screw being self-sufficient. He'd stay in a home any day if it meant that sweet cold air being directed right at him.

He must have closed his eyes in bliss, because an awkward sort of cough came from nearby, and Tsunayoshi's head quickly snapped around to meet the sheepish expression of a secretary. If he'd been the type to blush, the brunet might have been beet red by then, but all he could manage was an awkward smile and attempts to actually maintain eye contact. He rubbed the back of his neck, and tried to convey his apology with his expression, but the brunet wasn't quite sure if it worked. He wasn't that bothered if it hadn't.

"Hello," the secretary started with a smile, bright toned and professional. "How can I help you?"

How to explain...? 'It would be great officer, if you had some magical device to return me back to the future to the other side of the world. That would be helpful.' Maybe not.

"Ah, well, I'm lost." Tsunayoshi fidgeted a little, as if he was embarrassed by the admission. Mostly he was unused to human interaction, having holed himself up the past few months.

Some sort of understanding smile was plastered onto the secretary's face, and the brunet had to wonder how real it was. These people were far too nice and understanding to be possible.

"Well why don't you tell me what happened, and I can see if we can get you home again."

That would be impossible, but Tsunayoshi didn't say that. Instead, he went forwards, wondering just how he could spin this while revealing the least amount of truth possible. Maybe he could say he woke up in an alley? That could work. He didn't get as far as opening his mouth before another officer walked through the doors, calling out a casual greeting as he went past. The brunet glanced at the officer in curiosity, before dismissing him once more, but the police man had stopped in his tracks.

With a shaky voice, full of disbelief, he posed a question.

"Dame-Tsuna?"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Firstly, I'm really sorry I forgot about this. Some of the reviews are really sweet like aww. I had the first part written like years ago but I have no sense of time so o/ I remember hoping for the plot to and background to unravel slowly and naturally, and so I hope it still does without being completely and utterly confusing. The narrative it pretty much entirely from alt-Tsuna's viewpoint, and few stories I've read really go into the large cultural gap between different countries (like Italy and Japan, though in this case it's England and Japan) and so I want this version of Tsuna to really reflect that. Oh but like, feel free to kick me in the arse if I forget to update again haha, and ty to everyone who reviewed, even after it went ages without an update!

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Dame... Tsuna. Blinking, Tsunayoshi inclined his head in question. He wasn't quite sure what 'dame' actually meant, but Tsuna was fairly close to his name - even if it was missing half of it. Whatever 'dame' meant, it seemed the secretary didn't like it, because she was sending the police officer what she probably hoped was a reproving look. The police man seemed to be too caught up in looking at Tsunayoshi to care.

"Tsuna!" The officer repeated once more, full of vigour that time. "What the hell?"

The brunet in question summed up all his intelligence for a response, and managed to come out with, "bwuh?"

Seeming to lose his patience, the officer grabbed Tsunayoshi before he could really snatch his arm away, dragging him presumably somewhere more private. He quickly shot down the secretary's formulating protests.

"Hey, I know him, alright? I won't take him out of the station, sheesh, stop worrying."

Ignoring the fretting secretary, the police man, in all essence, kidnapped Tsunayoshi and they both disappeared through one of the many doors present.

The brunet scarcely had time to gather his bearings before he was faced with an irritated police man.

"You better as hell have a good explanation for this."

Now Tsunayoshi had manners hammered into him from a young age, and he could generally spot misunderstandings from a mile away. Be as it may, he was hot, tired, two years away from home, and really not up to the usual diplomacy he was capable of.

"Who the hell are you?"

Maybe he could have phrased it better, especially given that he was talking to a police police man. Deciding to not give a shit instead, the brunet ripped his arm out of the older man's grip, crossing his arms in some sort of defensive gesture, and looking at the police man warily.

"What the hell are you talking about- it's Mochida!" He seemed as if he had more to say, but he simply paused, and looked at Tsunayoshi as if he was seeing him for the first time.

"Holy shit, you've shrunk." He commented, before his eyes widened. "You are Sawada Tsunayoshi, aren't you?"

The brunet leaned back, wary. He felt like running away - sprinting in the opposite direction, really. Nothing good comes from ending up somewhere entirely new where people apparently knew you.

"What's it to you?" He huffed defensively, eying the police man as if he was about to jump him.

Mochida for his part was rubbing a hand over his face, looking at Tsunayoshi with some sort of fond exasperation that spoke far too much of familiarity to make the brunet comfortable.

"Don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet?" He asked, and Tsunayoshi felt a little like pulling hair. "Didn't the bazooka hit you or something? You really won't stop being dame if you're this slow."

Understandably, the brunet was more than confused and just a little frustrated. What the hell did he mean bazooka?

"I don't know what in hell you're talking about-"

"The bazooka!" Mochida yelled, running a hand through his hair. "The ten year bazooka, you know, time travel?"

Whatever reply he had prepared died in his throat. Time travel? _Time travel?_ Tsunayoshi would have immediately told the police man – Mochida or whatever the hell – how utter ludicrous his sentence was if he wasn't already at his limit. He hadn't spent _months_ trying desperately to get over his depressive funk only for someone to pull this shit on him. The stress and panic of waking up in god-knows-where convened into one massive ball of emotion. As if was, instead of replying, an oddly hysterical giggle broke past his lips.

"This isn't real," he told himself, ignoring whatever odd look Mochida was sporting. "Time travel doesn't exist, I'm not in Japan, this is all some- some sort of _hallucination_ and soon I'll wake up in my shitty bed and everything will be fine."

"Tsuna–" Mochida surged forward as if to grab hold and shake the panicking teen, and Tsunayoshi quickly shoved him off.

"No!" He shouted, shaking his head. "I don't know what you're trying to pull here–"

"Tsuna," Mochida started, panicked, "calm down!" He kept glancing at the door they came through; as if afraid they'd be overheard.

"If you think I'm going to listen to you, you crazy ass mother–"

" _Shut up_ ," the police man hissed. "There's someone coming."

"I will not shut up!"

Before he had the chance to open his mouth once more and tell Mochida where to stick it, he was distracted by a flash of Mochida's hand, an odd pressure and then darkness.

— X —

" _What the fuck_ Kensuke?"

Oh, dear Christ. His head _hurt._

"What do you mean 'what the fuck'? I had nowhere else to bring him!"

Oh, oh god. Did he pass out? Who the fuck was shouting?

"You barged in, in the middle of the day might I add, with an unconscious teenager who looks like the recently deceased Sawada! You can't just do that, flinging around kids like they're some sack of potatoes, _idiot_."

Tsunayoshi flinched. Had they known his mother?

"Hana–"

"Shut up! He's awake."

Well the jig was up. With a groan, Tsunayoshi opened his eyes, squinting heavily at the light. There were two figures staring at him so intently, he reflexively had a hand halfway up to see if there was something on his face, before his mind caught up with him.

"Oh my god, I've been kidnapped."

The Mocchi-whatever police man looked like constipated. Some Japanese lady was sitting next to him – _duh_ they were in Japan, people were Japanese in Japan – not looking any happier.

"Don't be an idiot," she barked, and boy was Tsunayoshi grateful his mother actually taught him her native language. He was sure that anyone remotely unfamiliar with it would think she outright up and growled at him.

"Okay, okay!" Mocchi said, raising his hands. "Everyone calm down and we can figure this out," he shot the lady a look " _peacefully_."

Tsunayoshi snorted quietly. "So says the kidnapper," he muttered.

Mocchi shot him a venomous look. Tsunayoshi shut up. It probably wasn't wise to provoke the kidnapper.

The lady grinned. It looked a little feral, and Tsuna couldn't tell if she was smiling with him or at him. "Still a little shit, I see."

Rude.

" _Shut up_ Hana." So, that was her name. "Now listen here Tsuna–"

"It's Tsunayoshi–"

" _Tsuna._ I'm going to say some things, and you're going to confirm them for me. Understand?"

The brunet nodded once, jerkily.

" _Good._ First things first. Your name is Sawada Tsunayoshi."

He nodded, and Mocchi nodded to himself, as if in confirmation.

"Your parents," he went, his voice softer now, "are Sawada Nana and Sawada Iemitsu."

Tsunayoshi frowned, opening his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

"No, only nod or shake." He nodded, and Mocchi copied him, satisfied. "Now, you grew up in Namimori, with your mother. You're the worst of your class. Sometime recently, you gained a home tutor named Reborn. You following me?"

What?

"Uhm, no?" Tsunayoshi asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Mocchi looked like he was going to nod again, before Tsunayoshi's answer caught up with him. "What do you mean, _no_?"

"I mean," Tsunayoshi started, licking his lips nervously. "I grew up with my mum, Nana, in London. I don't know who my dad is. What does my classwork have to do with anything? And I don't know anyone called 'Reborn'."

The lady – Hana – threw her hands in the air. "See, it's not him! Maybe it's a prank, or some weird doppelganger. Let the poor kid go already."

Yeah, they should let him go. Tsunayoshi thought seriously about planning his escape route – where the hell was he anyway? It looked like some sort of hotel – while the two crazies decided to argue with each other.

"No, I know it's him! He has the same flame!"

"He's not the right age, even if this was some sort of bazooka mishap, _idiot_."

"That _doesn't matter_!"

"It sure fucking does – he doesn't even know who Reborn is, and he sure as hell wasn't lying."

Tsunayoshi was halfway off the sofa he woke upon, and slowly inching away from the two weirdos – honestly, flames? _Bazooka_? – when one of their phones vibrated.

"Oh, what is it _now_?" With an angry snarl, Hana grabbed her mobile, and swiped aggressively to unlock it, only to pale. "Oh _fuck_. Tsuna's coffin was raided."

"Wait, what the fuck–"

"No shut up. _Millifiore_ were spotted in the area and– and we need to leave, _now_."

Without a word, Mocchi started grabbing stray bits and bobs from around the room and shoving them into a bag. Hana stalked forwards to grab Tsunayoshi by the arm.

"Hey kid, we need to go."

"I'm not going anywhere with you crazy fu–"

"We don't have _time_ ," she hissed. "Mochida, let's _go_."

In all honestly, Tsunayoshi didn't have much time to register that he got the dude's name wrong, because next thing he knew the guy was bleeding on the floor and clutching his limp arm while Tsunayoshi's ears were ringing from what he belatedly realised was an honest to god _gunshot_.

What the actual–

"Get down!"

He was unceremoniously flung to the floor while another series of shots rang out through the door. He scrambled back to hide behind the sofa just in time to see Hana pull out her own gun – and where the hell was she hiding _that?_ – to start shooting back. In all of five seconds, both people who had been arguing with each other not moments before already had some form of cover and a weapon in hand and they were in an actual, legitimate _shootout_. Holy _fuck_.

This was not on.

The only exit, as far as Tsunayoshi could see, was being shot to smithereens, and his heart was beating fast and furiously enough that if he didn't _get the fuck away_ soon he might have an honest to god panic attack.

But no, there was a window right behind him. Without thinking really, Tsunayoshi scrambled towards it and unlatched it all the while trying to keep him head ducked. It was a bit of a blur, but he was hallway out of it before he heard someone shout–

"What the fuck _are you doing_? We're ten stories up!"

–and he looked down to see a staggering amount of space between him and the packed footpath, and people were already staring up at him and pointing and he panicked and slipped and–

He fell.


	4. Chapter 4

He was going to die.

 _He was going to die._

He was going to _die._

A scream tore from Tsunayoshi's voice to be snatched by the wind rushing past him. Everything seemed to be happening at a hundred miles an hour and simultaneously as slowly as they possibly could. And still Tsuna was entirely too aware he was rushing towards his death. The ground rushed forwards at an alarming rate, and thoughts rushed through his mind like water – entirely too quick and gone before he could fully grasp them. But there was one thing, one thought that pre-occupied his mind; one desperate, achingly yearning thought that refused to be put aside.

' _I don't want to die.'_

Tsunayoshi kept up the steady mantra of rejection, a constant stream of ' _no's_ and _'not yet's_ and so caught up in his panic, his utter refusal to meet his end as a smear on the pavement he didn't register an odd, curious feeling of being filled with lightness, and neither did he see sparks flying off him with increasing frequency. Instead he focused all his heart and soul into his one wish, his one regret, with all his dying will.

Just over a metre before Tsunayoshi hit the ground, he burst into flames.

He hit the pavement with a resounding _boom_ , small bits of concrete flying from the crash-site. Tsunayoshi had his eyes screwed shut, unable to process – for a moment – both that he was still conscious and very much _alive_ and the complete and utter lack of pain. He had absolute certainty that it would hit all at once and he would black out, never to awake again.

A moment, passed, then another. Through all the panic and ringing of his ears, Tsunayoshi could vaguely hear shouts, and gasps. There was some unmistakable feeling of something _wrong_ , as if something was going to happen and hadn't already happened and if people came near him things would suddenly become very, very _bad._

Tsunayoshi quite suddenly wanted to be far away from there.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the same strange feeling of lightness overcame him, and nothing – not having fallen out of a window, or the impromptu gunfight, or being in _Japan_ – nothing mattered. Instead the thought encompassed his mind, his every thought, and Tsuna was overcome with the irrefutable task of _getting the hell out of there_.

Without realising he was alight once more, Tsuna rose from the ground, and _ran_. Nothing else crossed his mind, and even so, he would have never been able to predict the shockwaves his actions were already making in the underground community.

— X —

His phone cracked under the pressure of his fist, before igniting in a rush of storm flames. Gokudera paid it to attention, even as the ashes fell from his hand. It didn't matter anyway, nothing mattered right at that moment besides his violent all-encompassing _rage_.

The Tenth's coffin had been defiled.

Gokudera had blanked when the report had first came in, white noise filling his ears as he had refused to process what was being told to him. But on the second time, and the one after that, Vongola's storm guardian had fully understood what had happened. Tsuna's coffin was empty, the flowers crushed, lid strewed off to the side and scratched up. Leaves and bits of tree had fallen into the open casket, and the white lilies had wilted in the open air. The faint impression of a body was still left behind, even long after Tsuna's resting place had been pried open and dirtied.

It was utterly _despicable_. Tsuna hadn't been laid to rest more than a few days earlier, his body had barely time to cool before someone had come along and taken it. Well, Tsuna's life had been taken from him too, snatched while still in its youth and Gokudera would be damned if he let Tsuna's afterlife be stolen as well. No, those fuckers would _burn_.

Gokudera's anger was explosive, always had been. He was a throw-the-goddamn-dynamite-before-thinking guy, and after ten years with Tsuna that reaction had only tempered the slightest to make it less dangerous for him and deadlier for his enemies. But this time, there was nobody immediate to explode on, nobody he could blame for this issue. He too had failed in protecting Tsuna's coffin, and now there was nowhere for his anger to go, no target to direct his explosives at.

 _But not for long_.

Gokudera grabbed another, identical phone from his pocket and flipped it open. He sent a quick, text-based message to everyone on the system before calling up some of the best people he could use to track down whoever had dared cross them like this.

"This better fucking be good."

Mochida's voice came out pained, and Gokudera barely had time to open his mouth before he was interrupted.

"Hang on!" The phone seemed to be put down, and the distinct sound of gunshots rang out, loud and harsh. Gokudera's rage immediately quieted in the face of his worry.

A moment later the voice spoke again, even if Gokudera could faintly hear some shouts along the line of 'ten stories up' faintly in the background noise.

"I hope you're calling to say you're on your way," Mochida said, voice tight. "Because we could really use some back-up right around now."

"Where are you?" Gokudera asked, already gearing up and readying himself to leave. He hoped it was nearby.

"At Hana's Hotel. Hurry."

With that the line went dead, and Gokudera barely took a moment before calling up someone else.

"Takeshi, we're needed at Hana's five minutes ago." He snapped, waiting long enough to hear an affirmative 'got it' before hanging up and making his way as well. With any luck, Yamamoto would get there quickly, and nothing bad would happen.

Gokudera couldn't shake the feeling that it already had.

— X —

Yamamoto had gotten there before him. If it hadn't been obvious by the rain flames peppering the fight scene and sword wounds on some of the scattered _Millifiore_ , then it soon become so when the rain guardian jumped out of the second story with a body in his arms. Gokudera rushed forwards.

"Is he-?" He asked, gesturing to the prone form of Mochida.

"He's fine, just blood loss." Yamamoto gave a slightly strained grin. "But we should be going right about now, before they catch up. Can you catch Hana?"

Yamamoto dashed towards the car Gokudera had come from, and the latter man was left stranded for a moment before a shout from above caught his attention. Hana was hanging out of the same window Yamamoto had come from, the signs of fight present in the scrape on her forehead and tears in her clothes.

"You better catch me," she warned.

Gokudera nodded and refrained from commenting, instead adjusting his stance and spreading his arms. A few years ago, when things hadn't been so dire, maybe it would have been different, and they could have spent time on their back-and-forth banter but he could already hear the shouts of the assailants behind her and the time for such childishness had long past.

"Come on."

In a show of trust that really reflects on how far they've come, Hana jumps without looking back. A few shouts and shots ring out behind her, and Gokudera is worried for a hot moment that they managed to hit, but not a moment later she landed safely in his arms, and was up and dusting herself off in no time.

"Thanks."

Gokudera snorted. "Ryohei would murder me if something happened to you on my watch."

With a roll of the eyes, Hana tugged his arm. "Let's go, before it goes to waste."

Already there were signs of pursuit, and no matter how bad the damage was already, it would soon become a lot worse once they were trapped into fighting and sitting ducks for bigger, stronger members of the rival mafia to show up. And really, that was the last thing they wanted.

With a nod to each other, they both hurried over to the car Yamamoto had up and running. Gokudera had parked it a little out of the way so it didn't get damaged or blown up. He cursed, stumbling on a stray bit of rubble as he ran, to notice a large hole in the pavement. Hana was already a few metres in front of him, so he went quicker to catch up when he felt it.

Flames.

 _Sky_ Flames.

Gokudera choked, and stumbled to a halt. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. There was _no way_ –

Hana shouted at him to keep going, but Gokudera was lost in the feeling of warmth and _home_ , that he was sure he'd lost forever. He was being dragged along, manhandled and shoved into the car. And even if it was absolutely ridiculous, with no way it could possibly, in any way be real–

Gokudera felt a small, painful ball of hope grow in his chest.

 _Tsuna_.


End file.
